Breathing (21 page)

“Don’t fret now, Porsha,” DC says. “They did a’ight.”

“Get dried up and I’ll fix us some supper. Gina should be here any minute with Dog. I’m guessing you didn’t eat yet.”

“No, ma’am,” Jackson replies.

DC brings Jackson a clean sweatshirt and pair of jeans he had in his truck. They don’t fit too well, but at least they’re dry.

Then Dog tramples into the house. Gina honks out front and Mama and DC run out there to check in with her.

“Did y’all see that twister?” Dog asks, his eyes glowing with excitement. “That was the coolest thing ever. We heard it picked up two cows over at the Larsons’ farm and set ’em back down by the Kellys’. Damn, Savannah, you look like hell. What happened to you?”

“Me and Jackson got caught in the storm.”

“Where were you at?”

“The beach up by Morehead,” I say.

His expression changes and his tone turns obnoxious. “Up at the beach at night, huh?”

“Hush,” I warn.

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell Mama,” he says, just as she and DC walk back in.

“Won’t tell Mama what?” she asks, sounding concerned.

“Nothing,” I say, giving Dog the stink eye. Seeing this as a good moment to exit, I go get cleaned up. Then we all eat Mama’s fried chicken and corn on the cob. After dinner, we all five of us watch a movie together. I even get to snuggle up with Jackson on the couch without Mama saying a word against it.

When the movie ends, Mama and I wash up the dinner dishes. Jackson wanders over and puts his chin in his hand on the counter, just staring at me.

“Quit!” I tell him. He’s embarrassing me.

“What?” he asks.

“Find something else to look at,” I say, even though I am, of course, loving every minute.

He starts flipping through a
People
magazine that’s laying on the counter. After a few more minutes, he goes, “What’s this?” holding up a letter addressed to me from school.

“I don’t know,” I say. “Probably just my schedule for the fall.” But this little bitty piece of me is wondering—what if it might could be about that program in the mountains?

“Did I forget to show you that?” Mama asks. “I believe it arrived a week or two ago. I’m sorry. I thought I told you about it.”

Jackson gets a mischievous smile on his face and opens the letter. “Let’s see what courses Savannah’s gonn’ be taking this year.” He opens the envelope and I race over to grab it away, scared that if it is my schedule, looking at it’ll make it happen—just like with ol’ Miss Caroline’s whiskers. He runs through the living room and I chase after him, tackling him to the floor in front of the TV. We’re laughing. Mama and DC are smiling, watching us.

“Move!” Dog shouts. “I can’t see.”

Jackson slides to the side and looks at the letter. “This ain’t no schedule,” he says.

A strange feeling of dread rolls right over me. I grab the letter from him.

 

There’s a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach. I got it—the invitation to that program up in the mountains!

Jackson finishes reading over my shoulder. “Hell, girl! You didn’t tell me you were
that
smart. But you best go on and send it in. It’s nearly due.”

“Send what in?” Mama asks.

While I sit there dumb, Jackson takes the letter out of my hand and brings it over to Mama. I’m nervous about her seeing the amount at the end.

She reads it through and covers her mouth with her hand. “Well, I’ll be. Savannah, that is unbelievable! I am real proud of you, sugar. I don’t know, though, Asheville sure is a long way off. What about your medical care? I’ll call Dr. Tamblin tomorrow and see what he thinks.”

“What’s in Asheville?” Dog asks. “What the hell is everybody talking about?”

Mama shows the letter to DC on the couch and Dog reads over his shoulder.

“Some kind of goober fest that’s gonn’ be,” Dog mutters, turning back to the TV.

“Savannah,” Mama says, sounding all choked up. “How in the world did this happen?”

“Mrs. Avery put my name in for it. I didn’t say anything ’cause it seemed so unlikely I’d get picked and all.”

Mama shakes her head. “You did it, hon. You’ve been wanting to get outta this town since you could talk. You earned your chance. And a possibility of a scholarship to college!”

She’s right, about all of it. So why is my stomach all tied up in knots? “What about Jackson?” I say, remembering that feeling I got just this morning that he’ll be back again. “We been trying to find a way to be together all summer and his mama ain’t likely to let him go gallivanting off to Asheville. I . . . I’m not sure about this.”

Mama looks to Jackson for assistance.

“Savannah,” he starts, real quiet.

“I got to think,” I say. “Don’t rush me.” I feel like that ol’ devil’s tail has moved right into my gut.

 

 

Sunday morning DC called one of his contacts that knows a glass man who’s going to come over and fix the windows on the truck.

I feel bad about not bringing breakfast up to the site today. But I am worn out, and I have a lot on my mind.

I’ve been thinking on how Jackson said he loved me last night. I reckon that storm brought us something good. Going through an experience like that binds people together somehow in a way I don’t quite understand.

So when I consider that program—something I was hoping against hope I might get a chance to go to—I feel uncertain. And even if I did decide to go, how in the world would we afford it? Seems like there’s no point even getting worked up over it.

Meanwhile, I can’t stand that Jackson’s leaving tonight. It doesn’t seem right. I keep reminding myself about that feeling I had yesterday, about him being here again, about us being together. My feelings haven’t never let me down yet—not even that yellow sign. He ended up working for DC after all. So he must be coming back, which means I simply just can’t leave.

 

 

DC kept Jackson at the site till three. Now we’ve got barely a couple hours together before he has to drive back home. Having had our fill of nature for the time being, we head to the mall instead. We’re walking around, holding hands, but it’s like we ain’t even on the same planet.

“You should go on that program. You know that, right?” he says.

I shrug, wondering for a moment how much I could save if I set aside every penny I make at the library the rest of the summer. “You hungry?” I ask him, seeing as he just about always is.

“I could eat,” he says, not really seeming to care one way or the other. “You want some Chick-fil-A?”

What I want is to get out of this crowded place with all this stuff and lights and people and be somewhere where we can be together for real. I shake my head. “Let’s go to Eddie’s.”

He’s quiet all the way in the truck. It’s driving me crazy. “Jackson, we ain’t got but a little more time together. Why you so quiet?” I hate to nag, but I can’t stand wasting our last itty bit of time like this.

“Sorry,” he says. “I ain’t too keen on leavin’ or good-byes neither.”

Which of course I’m glad to hear, but still. “Let’s just try and don’t think about it. Let’s pretend like we got all the time in the world.”

“I’m too old for pretendin’,” he says.

We sit at our usual table at Eddie’s. “What you gonn’ get?” I ask him.

“I’on’t know,” he says.

Now that’s unusual, him not knowing what to eat. I wasn’t going to tell him about that feeling I had yesterday, ’cause he didn’t react too good to the one about the yellow sign. But I’ve got to do something to cheer him up. “I got one of them special feelings,” I say.

“’Nother train headed my way?” he teases halfheartedly.

I shake my head. Now, suddenly, I’m afraid to say it, afraid to jinx it, afraid it won’t be real. “It’s a secret,” I tell him. “But, it’s a good one.”

“You just gonn’ leave me hangin’?” he asks, all shocked.

I smile all flirty-like. And a certain look comes over his face like he finally figured out what he’s hungry for.

We get up without ordering and head down to the beach—about the only place we can cuddle up and kiss. But it’s busy as hell down there. We sure ain’t going to get any privacy. We tuck ourselves down behind a dune and start kissing. But somehow it doesn’t feel right. Instead of the soft, gentle Jackson of last night, he’s more like an angry, frustrated Jackson. I try to slow him down. But he seems to be in his own little world.

“What is wrong?” I finally ask.

“Whatcha mean?” he replies.

“You seem different,” I say.

He hangs his head. “I prob’ly should go. Mama wants me off the highway ’fore dark.”

Forget about your mama!
I want to yell. But I know he can’t do that. And I know deep down in my heart, I don’t want him to be the kind of guy that would. There ain’t nothing right to say, so I just take his hand in mine and squeeze it real tight.

He looks at me all full of angst and pulls me to him, kissing me real hard like he’s trying to take me into himself somehow, take some part of me along with him. I feel like I’m going to cry from wanting him not to go. But I know that won’t help anything none. We hug each other real tight, not caring who’s watching. Then we walk back out to the truck and he drives me home.

“Want to come in for a little while? Get something to drink ’fore you go?” I ask him.

He just shakes his head.

I can’t do it. I can’t get down out of the truck. ’Cause soon as I do, he’s going to drive off and I’m going to die right here on the spot.

“Go on,” he whispers.

I don’t move.

“I love you,” I say, as tears creep out my eyes, even though I’m trying my darndest to hold them back.

Looking like he might just cry himself if he opens his mouth to speak, he puts his hand behind my head and pulls me towards him and we kiss. And then I slip out of the truck without looking back at him, the only way I can. And he drives off without so much as a wave.

“Y
annah! Get your butt off your shoulders and go breathe some fresh air!” Mama calls. She marches into my room, cuts on the lights and draws open the blinds. I hide my head under the covers.

“Looky here,” she starts in. “I know you’re all tore up about him leaving. I get it, I do. But you’ve got other concerns right now. You only have a handful of days left to send in that acceptance letter. Now get your butt up and get busy.”

“Mama,” I say. “I don’t think I want to go to the mountains after all. It’s too far. And I won’t know anybody and—”

“I know you don’t think I’m that dumb. Hon, you can’t just give up on something you’ve always wanted because you might miss a visit from Jackson. Now I spoke to Dr. Tamblin and he thought it would be a real good idea you goin’ up there.”

“We can’t even afford it,” I blurt out.

“You let
me
worry on that one. You got to take advantage of the freedom you have to choose this, shug.”

“I don’t got any freedom at all,” I say. “You get to have your boyfriend over any time you like, work whatever hours is convenient, even then get to hang out with him. I don’t got a single choice about spending time with Jackson. It’s up to everybody else when I get to see him. And Lord knows when that’s gonn’ be!” I don’t even know why I flip out like that, except I’m all confused about what to do about the program, and I don’t like Mama making it seem like it’s clear cut.

“Is that what you think? You got it so bad? I got all the freedom? Good God, Savannah! Who you think’s been paying the bills every day of your life? Who’s been through umpteen jobs? Who’s the one worrying about you and your breathing and your safety and your brother, too? Not having a lick of energy left at the end of the day to go out and have a life of my own? Freedom? I hadn’t had any of that since the day you were born. Now get your ass up out the bed and sign that letter!” And she storms right out of the room.

I feel like s-h-i-t. I ain’t even sure what all is going on inside of me. The devil’s tail is back, twisting up my guts. Am I mad? Hurt? Sad? I reckon some of all three. Mama ain’t never talked to me like that, never made me feel like a burden, like she regretted having me. Let me tell you, that is one bad feeling, hearing somebody wish you weren’t never born, specially when it’s your own mother wishing it.

Okay, maybe I was being overly dramatic, maybe I overstated things a bit. But what she said, that was just uncalled for. I wish I could talk it through with Jackson. But I know he’s at work, and he ain’t allowed to take personal calls there.

I get dressed real quick and run outside to avoid crossing paths with Mama. I hop on my bike and ride out, touring the places me and Jackson went while he was here. I start at Eddie’s and buy myself some hotcakes so I can sit at our table and recall every minute we spent there. Sadly, I ain’t a bit hungry, so I just poke at them flapjacks and try to keep from crying. I go by the building site and the mall and down to the beach. I’d like to ride up to where we waited out the tornado, but I don’t think my lungs are up for that sort of ride today. I ain’t been breathing too right since the minute he left.