Pearl (4 page)

Granny sat back with a frown. “My hearing is getting so poor these days.” She pulled at her earlobes as though she expected her eardrum to just fall out.
 

“Sit with me, Pearl.”

She did as she was told, pulling up a seat close enough for Granny to hear her speak without shouting.
 

“Now, I understand you are here to be with Roy, and that is just fine. But as the head of this farm, I will have you know there are a few rules that you must follow.”

Pearl sat back, waiting for the worst. Knowing Granny still thought of her as only a child made her mind go wild with adolescent regulations. Would she stick a curfew on her? Not let her use the phone to call friends past bedtime? The ridiculousness of it made Pearl smile. Being homeschooled didn’t leave a lot of freedom to make new friends. Roy was her one extracurricular activity. And though her father disagreed with her choice in men, he did stay out of her personal life.
 

Granny stared Pearl’s smile down, her crystal eyes droopy behind her thick glasses. “I will not have you and Roy in a closed bedroom. I will expect you to help with chores and mealtimes just as the other women on the farm do. I will have you dressed and ready by dawn. You do know how to drive a truck, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she said sheepishly.

“Wonderful, then you will be running errands for me when Vernie and that incompetent woman Darren married are not available, understood?”

Pearl gave a short nod. It was as bad, and at the same time not as horrible, as she was expecting.
 

Granny continued, “I have been on this farm a long time, more than sixty years. My husband passed away years ago, leaving me the head of this home. I am a kind woman, with low tolerance of disrespect or lack of participation. While you are here you are considered family. Yet that does not mean I cannot have you on the road any time I choose. Is that clear?”
 

“Yes, ma’am.”

Granny waved her away. “Oh, enough with such formality. I’m not that old. Now go clean up before the men get here.”

Pearl quickly showered and changed in time to hear Roy’s voice at the bottom of the stairs. She ran to his arms and squeezed his neck tighter than she meant to.
 

“Whoa, baby, watch out—you’re gonna kill me,” he said, pulling away. He reeked of manure and cow feed. She noticed that his denim shirt, which was cut off at the shoulders, was stained with grease.
 

“Why didn’t you tell me we couldn’t share a room?” Pearl whispered sharply to him.
 

“Come on, baby, I thought you knew. Granny’s just like that. Don’t worry—she’s getting too old to know everything that happens around here.”
 

He gave her a moist kiss on her lips, and her stomach turned in knots.
 

“You know I’ll be up there,” he whispered in her ear.
 

“I know,” she said, showing him her bravest smile. What she couldn’t tell Roy was that she needed him last night, and every night to follow. She needed his arms to hold her while she slept. She needed his strength and his comfort, not just his passion for an hour.
 

She tried to again, seeing if he would understand. “I guess I’m just lonely.”

He shrugged her off. “It’s only the first morning. Go visit Vernie—you’ll feel better.”

Their conversation was cut short as Granny called out that dinner was served.

Roy bolted from her side, grabbing a plate and shoveling ham and steamed potatoes on it.
 

“It’s really not too bad around here.” Pearl turned to see Cindy holding a pot of hot coffee in her hand. Her smile was alarming, as though it didn’t fit on her tight face.
 

“Most of the time the old woman doesn’t even know if you’re here or not.”

Stunned, Pearl looked to see Granny’s reaction. True to Cindy’s words, Granny hadn’t heard a thing.

Cindy set down the pot, resting her elbows against the counter. “Hey, maybe sometime I can take you in to town, show you around a little bit, huh?”

“Mullington?” Pearl asked. “Thought Roy said there was nothing around here ’til you go south.” She didn’t remember driving through anything significant.
 

Cindy rolled her eyes. “Probably not anything hot like you have in Arizona. We don’t have a JC Penny or anything. But it’s decent.”
 

Pearl found herself smiling for the first time at Cindy. “I’d like that.”

Grabbing a plate, Pearl began to think that maybe this wasn’t so bad. Maybe she could find a friend in Cindy. It would be great to have someone close in age to her to hang out with, and Cindy couldn’t be more than five years older. Pearl reached for the food, realizing just how starving she was. She felt a firm swat on the hand. Stunned, she looked over to see Granny glaring up from her chair. “We women don’t eat dinner until the men are finished.” She shook her head in disgust. “You have a lot to learn on this farm.”

Pearl shrank back, watching Roy and Darren wolf down three ham sandwiches each and two helpings of potatoes. When it was her turn, all that was left were two slabs of meat covered in fat. She did her best to pick around it, losing her appetite and settling on just eating a slice of bread.
 

“Hey, baby,” Roy called out from the living room recliner. “Can you bring me the newspaper sitting on the chair?”

Pearl tossed it to him, wanting so desperately to curl up on his lap. He gave her a wink, sending her back to the kitchen to clean up.
 

By late afternoon Pearl sneaked away from Granny’s grip for a quick smoke and apple picking. With a basket held in place by her hips, she tossed the finished cigarette to the ground, stomping her sandaled foot over the flame. She picked up the stub and stuffed it into her pocket, not wanting to leave any trace of trash on this unmarked land. Here, the beauty of silent trees and open air surrounded her. It engulfed her in a way that made her feel significant and small at the same time. The silence was frightening in the same way it was calming. Gone were the children playing hopscotch on the street, the TVs blaring and the passing cars. Instead she was enriched with birds chirping, grass rustling, and the wind dancing. She felt an awed respect for the earth around her.

Hayfields seemed to stretch for miles, halting only at tall flourishing trees that clustered in deep forests. She couldn’t even see Cindy and Darren’s home until she turned around the bend, down the driveway. Up beyond the hill between two oak trees lay Vernie’s small cottage. To Pearl, it was quaint and perfect. Cindy and Darren were settled in a trailer with a yard about as nice as dirt, especially compared to Vernie’s.

Reaching the orchard, she dropped the basket below the abundant apple tree and raised her hand to wave to Darren on the tractor, who tipped his hat in response. Pearl continued her wave to Cindy, who was a short walking distance away, hanging clothes out to dry in Granny’s backyard. Her hand dropped as Cindy tossed her auburn head in her direction, shooting her an unmistakable glare. Pearl’s steps came to a halt. Cindy, her eye hard on the younger girl, picked up her basket and walked away.

Shaken, Pearl was lost as to what she could have done to turn Cindy against her. The only logical conclusion was pity. It was foolish to think she could be welcomed so instantly into a family she had only met. Wasn’t it enough that they had opened their home? Of course Cindy would look to her as the young naïve girl she would have to befriend out of obligation. She would do better—she would be good, and diligent, and happy and all the things she needed to be to make them realize she belonged. She would do what she needed to do to make Roy proud.
 

Pearl brushed away the shame as she reached for a rugged apple from the branch and wiped it on her shirt. Biting into the hard sweetness, she closed her eyes as the tart liquid ran down her throat.

“I’d be careful,” a voice said behind her. “Those are poisonous.”

Pearl dropped the apple to the ground in horror, spitting the remains from her mouth.
 

“Pearl, doll, I’m only kidding!” Vernie’s hoarse laugh could most likely be heard three farms over. Pearl turned to stare at her in shock, which only made Vernie laugh louder. Vernie pulled the straw hat from her head to fan her plump face. Sweat and tears rolled down her cheeks as she composed herself.
 

“I’ll tell you, though,” Vernie said, eyeing the girl’s reddening face. “If Granny catches you messing around in the orchard, she’ll have you for supper. We have pickers come out and pay good money for Granny’s apples and cherries.” Vernie took an apple from Pearl’s basket, shrugged, and took a bite. “She won’t even let us eat the bruised ones on the ground.”

 
Pearl’s gaze darted around her, searching for any sign of a creeping Granny, shotgun in hand, ready to haul her off the farm.
 

“How does she know? Does she keep count?”
 

“Calm your britches, girl, you’re safe this time.” Vernie took another bite as juice foamed in the corner of her mouth. “Just what were you intending to do with those apples?”

“I wanted to make a pie for after supper.” Pearl’s voice dropped. “Wanted to do something nice as a thank you for letting me stay here.”

When Vernie smiled, dimples rolled down her cheeks like waves. “We are not used to nice around here. You’re an awful big glass of cool water.” She patted Pearl on the shoulder. “Amazing you made it this far with Roy—surprised he hasn’t eaten you alive yet.”

Pearl lifted her brow. “What do you mean?”

Vernie shrugged her off. “Nothing, nothing, dear, don’t listen to this old hag. I just simply mean it’s been a while since we’ve had someone around here who is as sweet as you. Don’t quite know what to do with you, that’s all.”

Vernie pulled out a cloth out of her apron and wiped off an apple she pulled from the branch. She handed it to Pearl, encouraging her to eat. “Go on. You’ll be all right. Just remember in the future there’s a line waiting to be the first ones to pick off Granny’s orchard.” Vernie took one last bite of her own apple and tossed it under the brush. “Nothing is free around here.”

Pearl eyed her suspiciously. “You say that as though you don’t like being here.”

Vernie chuckled lightly. “Well, aren’t you the observant one. And here I thought I was going to have to suck you right out of your shell. No, little Pearl, you do have it wrong. This is my home. The only home I know. And that wretched woman is my mama.” She studied Pearl’s eyes with her own and said quietly, “This farm has its ghosts and secrets I will carry to my grave. But yes, I like it here.” She gave a light shrug. “But what have I to compare it to?”

Pearl listened intently. She knew the story well; it was her story, only of another time and another place. She imagined what it would be like to grow up on this farm. To have two parents, something neither she nor Roy could remember. It made her ask herself, would she have ever left with Roy if her mother was still around? The thought troubled her.
 

“Why haven’t you ever left?” Pearl asked.

“Not all of us believe running away is the answer,” Vernie said, making Pearl feel like a scolded child.
 

“I didn’t run away,” Pearl huffed.
 

“Ah, yes, freedom is delightful, isn’t it, Pearl?” Vernie said with a grin. “I chose to stay where I was needed. I helped my mama raise those boys, and I guess after that it was my job to help Mama after Daddy died. I chose my life, but, Pearl, I will tell you a secret.” She leaned in close, her heavy chest resting on Pearl’s folded arms. “Had I to do it again, I may have just chosen your path.” She leaned back with a smile. “Now come, let’s go help with supper.”

Supper was at dusk, and always at Granny’s. Pearl peeled the potatoes while Cindy helped Granny pull the roast from the oven. Vernie hummed to herself while setting the table with sweet pickles and olives.
 

“Pearl, would you mind setting the silverware while Vernie and I mash the potatoes?” Cindy asked a little too sweetly.

Pearl didn’t think to say that she had never set silverware before. Her small family had never bothered to sit together for a meal. Her father ate late at night when he came down from his room, his supper cold after hours of sitting on the stove. She and Billy ate in front of the TV, paper plates in their laps.
 

Setting the table was a simple task; how hard could it really be? She placed knives, forks, and spoons on top of the plates, napkins underneath. She finished just as the men walked in the house for supper.
 

“Darren!” Cindy cried out, loud enough to make Pearl jump.
 

He popped his head around the corner.
 

“Get the kids washed up, and change your shirt. I can smell the manure from here.”

Darren nodded wordlessly, leaving the room. Roy cruised in, covered from head to toe in hay, his face smeared with dirt. He swung an arm around Pearl, pulling her in for a kiss. She could taste the stale beer on his breath. It surprised her, and she pulled back.

 
“Hmm, baby, you smell good.” He nuzzled her neck. Pearl caught a look of disgust coming from Cindy. Embarrassed, she rested a hand on Roy’s chest, inching him away. He let her go with a smile and reached for a slice of homemade bread from the bowl on the counter.
 

Granny swatted his hand. “Your hands are filthy! Go wash up.”

Roy leaned down to kiss Granny on the cheek. She pretended to protest, but the smile in her eyes showed her pride. Roy skipped off to change.

“I was thinking you could come by around noon tomorrow,” Cindy said in Pearl’s ear. She turned to Cindy in surprise, wondering if she was looking at the same woman she’d seen from the orchard. Cindy stared back, a wide smile on her face. Shrugging off the hurt she felt from Cindy’s glare, Pearl smiled warmly at her, embracing Cindy’s effort at friendship. “Sure,” she responded. “I’d like that.”

They sat for supper, Granny saying grace. Unsure of what to do, Pearl watched as they closed their eyes. She held her neighbor’s hand and repeated “amen” after everyone else.