Deep in the Heart of Me (16 page)

Miss Pat says we will take a vote. "Think long and hard as our scholars have done a superb job," she says.

Then she has us stand, the five of us, meaning Utz and Tillo too, which is unfair and dumb.

The class applauds one more time. Then we sit.

"Sobe," I whisper, but she will not turn around or acknowledge me. "You did a good job," I say.

But she keeps her head forward.

I write her name on my paper. I fold it and when Miss Pat brings the basket I toss it in.

So the evening after the debate I am working in the barn near Dad. Now is as good time as any so I ask, "Dad…can I go with Pat to Springfield tomorrow night? He's selling the…colt. We plan to be home in time for Saturday evening chores."

Dad looks at me like he sees a fly land on my nose and strum the banjo.

"You would miss that party?" he says.

Well, I did not expect that. I more expected a list of the work he'd have to do with me gone.

"Oh…well…," I say.

He throws back his head and laughs. Then he reaches and ruffles my hair very hard.

I smile. "What?"

"Girl can't compete with a livestock sale, eh boyo? Your mother…she thinks you're stuck on that Sobe." He is having a great time, my dad. I am stuck on that Sobe. Very stuck.

"Shaun has beaten you to it. He's going with Pat. He never mentioned you wanting to go as well," Dad says.

That isn't the plan. Shaun is to stay here. He's to be working around innocent as pie. How else can I get free to go to the party?

"Well, with both of us gone…," I say like I'm torn about watching the place.

"We'll manage for one day. But you might have to miss some school if I need you to make it up."

"Yes, Dad."

"Oh…and it's up to your mother of course," he says walking off talking to himself, "It's a fine day in the heart of America."

I don't know what's got him so happy.

He's handed me off to the killer or all good ideas. Maman.

Shaun tells me later he's decided to go along to Springfield.

"I know," I say as I wash at the sink. "Dad told me." Enough said on that. Pee-Wee is getting carried away with the water, and I put my hand over his littler ones.

"No harm in it," Shaun says. "It's best I'm not found around here. That's all."

I look at him. I don't know what he's up to. And since Dad is not nailing me to the place, it doesn't worry me at all.

So that evening we talk about the debate around the supper table. Well, Elsie does. She knows every word of it. She has the same thing as me—the catch-bag in her head.

My Dad is very interested and proud. He can't lose here, either way. This time, it's Elsie. By a single, deliberate vote.

Dad says he hopes Sheriff can straighten out Sobe's way of looking at this matter of guns and freedom, and Elsie should know better.

"I think our bright girl makes a fine point," Maman says.

Elsie beams under Maman's praise, but she has this look for Dad as she goes on eating her food with tiny thoughtful bites.

And as far as Sobe winning, she gave me good as she got but of course I am right. Sobe spoke so strongly I knew there was truth somewhere in what she said.

My strength came from Dad. But Sobe went against her dad and still she was strong. I could not help but admire her guts even if I found her words unfortunate and troubling.

When I steal the mule, I will be strong.

And I will get to the bottom of Sobe's words.

So on Friday Sobe skips school to work on her party. That's what Elsie tells me.

I am so disappointed to think of the day without her I think of skipping myself. But I'm being the good boyo, the very good oldest son.

So I do not even see Sobe to tell her I'm not sure I'm coming to her party. Well, I am coming. But I will arrive much later than the gaggle and the herd. Good thing Maman and Dad are also going. They will drive the family load so they can scatter about in their costumes and carry on like they do.

For once, I am free of them.

But the thing now is to get my mother to consent to letting me pretend I'm going to Springfield.

After school, I catch Mom and Dad in the yard. Dad says to, "Let the boyo go."

But Maman says, "He has only been to the city with his father and now he's to go off with Pat? That will be the day I'm in my grave."

I groan. "When Dad was my age…," I start to say, then she holds up her 'hush' finger to me and I back down for even if Dad agrees with me, to go against Maman in any way means Dad will take me down.

My plan is this-I am going to change my mind last minute and hopefully win some points with Sobe when I go to her party after all. It's a reasonable idea that I help Pat catch the colt and get it loaded, then decide I'd rather go to the party. And this way I have all the time in the world to get that mule to co-operate, see?

All is fair in love and war. Maman says that usually with a terrible sigh, but I am just now contemplating its meaning and finding agreement on both ends.

Maman relents because Shaun is going, too.

Do they know him at all? I'm not going to argue it, but I'm better off with Pat. Crazy as he is, he's worse with Shaun as he is now, in his grief.

On the way to the barn, Joseph wants to know if I am coming along to put Miss Charlotte's outhouse on top of her porch roof. And they are filling Miss Pat's sidecar with oats.

I make a horse sound. A blow through my lips like he's crazy. I have bigger fish to fry.

Once I'm in the barn, Shaun enters. He tells me my mother wants me, and the usual teasing that goes along with that.

He's pretty wound up and I know he's been drinking—the smell and his eyes.

I get to the house and inside, in the kitchen and all over the parlor even there are little cakes sitting on boards covered with paper. Pee-Wee is so eager to show me, grabbing my hand and taking me on a tour.

"Well, what do you know," I say. They are small cakes cut like diamonds. They are orange colored or white or chocolate, my favorite, with candy sprinkles on top.

"You have to deliver these to Sobe's house," Maman says. "Take the truck. I will help you load them."

I hadn't planned on seeing Sobe. Not before the…ass-caper. I don't know why I'm not happy. I've missed her all day.

"Get Joseph to very carefully help you set the boards in the bed. Do not drive like a fool," Mom says.

"I don't," I say, then add, "Ma'am."

"Then prove me wrong. Get your brother and start loading." Then she adds, "And not Ebbie."

"I go?" Pee-Wee says. He loves to stand next to me while I grind through the gears.

"Not this time," I say.

His bottom lip juts out.

"You have to stay here and get ready for the party," I remind him.

"Scarecrow," he says.

Yes, he's going to be a scarecrow.

I pull the truck to the front of the house, and Joseph and I load the cakes. I put one board on the seat. Dad has extended the front seat as it's too narrow to hold him and Maman and Granma. So I have just enough room for all the cakes but no room for Joseph. Perfect.

"Maman, have you decided about Springfield?" I say before she goes back in the house.

"You may go. I will trust you. Don't make me sorry. Or you will be sorry."

"Thank you, Maman." I kiss her cheek in spite of her threats.

I get in the truck then before she can say anymore.

"Do not eat them," she calls as I drive away. She must think me a moron. I wait until I'm down the road to shove a whole cake into my mouth. They are as good as they look.

I eat another and lick my fingers when I'm not shifting onto the main road.

I pull up to Sobe's yard, and Elsie notices me right off. I've driven like I have nitro in this truck, checking that the cakes aren't bouncing all over the bed.

"Oh, oh," the girls all say. Right away I see Sobe, wearing a jacket that she has buttoned to her chin. Her skirts blow around, and I try not to look because I'm not wanting to do that to her in front of all these especially. So I hop out, and they are either mean or shy. Mostly mean. "Oh, it's Tonio. Did you bring your Tommy gun?" And they laugh.

"Hello Sobe," I say, ignoring the rest.

"Hello Tonio," she says, her cheeks so pink, and her lips…so pink.

"Um," the others say.

"Open the gate," Elsie snaps at me when she knows how to do it herself.

I pull the pins and lower the gate, and I pull out the first long board. "Where do these go?" I say.

"You have icing on your mouth," Elsie snaps like I'm Pee-Wee. I go for it with my tongue and sure enough. I must look like Pee-Wee too. Sobe is smiling as she pulls off another board.

"Careful," I say to her and only her, "they are heavy."

Elsie scoffs. Yes, I would let her pick the truck up by herself. But this is different…with Sobe.

So I carry a board by myself, on my shoulder. And they oh and ah around me and Sobe and Elsie each carries one.

I am shown where to put them, on a long table with pies made out of pumpkin and apples. Jack-o-lanterns are in front and all along the table. I hear another truck pull up, and it misfires, and I know it's Jim before I turn, and he parks and jumps out and lowers the bed, and it's pumpkins and gourds. Well, I could have brought those.

Then Fat Ned arrives and asks for help with a crock of cider. I help him get that on a stump there in the yard. Then the preacher and his wife arrive in their wagon. They have tubs of apples and balls of popcorn.

Then my own Uncle John with firewood for a bonfire.

When did all this happen? I help Uncle John unload. We need this truck to haul the ass in. "Are you going straight home?" I say.

He doesn't answer.

"Oh, Sobe this," and "Sobe," that. I can barely get a look. I was patient at school on Thursday, but it's getting old today, even though I didn't plan to be here at all. Blast it, Mom. If I could ever be left alone for a minute.

"Well, I guess I'll be going," I say loudly as Sobe laughs and claps her hands when Jim gets up in a tree and hangs like a monkey to place a lantern there.

"Go then," Elsie says like I'm an ant at a picnic.

"Well, I'm going," I say, but my feet don't move. Sobe turns then and sees me watching her. Her face gets serious like I took the joy right out of her again. She takes wide steps toward me.

"You did a fine job standing up for your point at the debate Tonio," she says.

I look around, and some are eying me. I told her right off she did a fine job, but she's just now getting to it for me. Glad this complement was not a drink of water on the desert. But it nearly is I'm that parched to hear her voice.

I fold my arms. "Looks like a fine party. Oh, I will not be here, by the way."

"Yes, Elsie said. You never did say you would come. I just hoped…. Well, you'll miss the fun," she says, then she smiles and points at my cheek, "But not some of the treats."

I scrub my fist over my cheek. Damn it.

"Well, don't miss me too much," I say.

"I won't," she says quickly.

Oh, so it's that way?

"Well, I think you should walk me to my truck," I say.

"Are there more cakes?" she says.

"Never mind," I say. I stalk off then, and I am halfway there when she catches up, and I am relieved.

"You can't even bother to come to my party," she says.

"Well, I haven't been to Springfield without Dad before."

"Oh, then don't let me stop you."

"I guess I'm not."

We are squared off is what I'd call it. My arms are still folded, and her hands are on her hips.

"I would come," I say, and her face softens. "I have to talk to Pat. Maybe he will go on without…me."

She looks away from me, but she stays put. Elsie is calling her.

"I have to go Tonio. I suppose…you must too."

"I didn't come to ruin your…good feelings," I say. "Sobe…."

She sniffs but I can't exactly see tears. "You make me mad," she says.

"You make me mad," I counter like we're still debating.

"I shouldn't make you mad if I'm your friend," she says hotly.

I want to say 'same to you,' but I don't. I say, "You're my 'dear' friend, remember?" I say it kind of mean.

"Are you making fun? Antonio?" she says this with a very angry hurt sound in her voice.

"I…I asked you to forgive me for that." For telling her, she couldn't say Antonio.

"I do. It's just…you won't even see my costume," she says, not making much sense.

I take a step closer. "Sobe…I'll come if I can. Do me a favor and stay close to your father in all the hub-bub."

"I'm safe, Tonio. Go on to Springfield with a clear mind."

I look over at the others milling about. "I still don't like it. That what you said in the debate…there was truth in it."

"It was in the papers, Tonio. Did your father not read that as well? I told you my father takes care of me. You should do what you want," she says.

Others call to her. Sobe, Sobe. She's a very impossible girl.

"I just wanted you to come. But…it doesn't matter. I have to…," she thumbs behind her.