Diann Ducharme (18 page)

I mumbled, “Ain’t it bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her wedding garb before the wedding?”

“Pshaw—I don’t believe in that foolishness, and with our good fortune lately, who need worry about silly tales like that?”

Oh Lord, I couldn’t even look at her pinned-up hair. My guts filled with guilt, and the damned gallnippers started biting on my ankles.

“Something wrong, Ben? You look poorly, all a sudden … You still tuckered from that ocean swim?” She sat down on the step with me, caring nothing for her white dress on this moldy wood. She ran her rough hand over my cheek.

The half moon rode low in the sky tonight, filling the spaces between the pine trees with cool light. The marsh frogs sang their night songs. I reached over for her hand, started stroking its work-tough skin.

I took a big breath. “Eliza, I got bad news for us. I hate hurting you, you know I care much for you and have for a long while, since we were younguns.”

I tried to keep her hand in mine, but she pulled it right away.

Her eyes were so dark now. Little black stones. “You’re leaving me, ain’t you.”

I nodded, head hung down in shame. This was the second time
today that I had let down someone I loved. “I can’t lie to you. I never have been able to. For some time now I have felt strong feelings for someone else. It’s mighty strange, given that I still care for you. But I don’t want to lead you into thinking about marriage with me, knowing that I can’t enter into it with a truthful heart. Which is what you deserve.”

She let out such a terrible screech it nearly popped my eyeballs outta their holes. “It’s that Abigail, ain’t it? I knew this was going to happen, I did! She had her claws into you from the get-go! I saw how she looked at you, come running down there on July Fourth to find you, and all the while knowing you were with me! I declare, she’s a no-good, calculating, slick little witch! And with her leaving at the end of the summer, too! She’s not worth it, Ben! Don’t pine over someone that don’t deserve your affection!”

I saw Abby in my mind as she appeared that day of the shipwreck, with her long hair water-logged like red seaweed all ’round her white face, with pride for me written all over it. I felt then that I’d won some sort of carnival prize, even though a man’s life was gone.

“I can see how you’d think unkindly of her, but she ain’t like that. To tell you the honest truth, I ain’t sure if she’d ever have me. But I can’t find out, knowing I’d be dodging behind your back.”

“You can’t
find
out, and expect me to be waiting on you when it all goes to shit,” she hollered. “I ain’t that kinda woman, Ben! You can’t treat me so, and expect me to swaller it down and ask for more!”

The cicadas in the trees seemed to ratchet up their music all of a sudden. The pine needles on her porch smelled musty and dark.

“Well, I know that, Eliza. I want you to have a good life with a man that can love you, I do. I thought it would be me. It’s awful for you to hear, but there it is.”

“What do you s’pose is gonna happen when you declare your
affections for little miss fancy skirts? You think she’s gonna throw her books in the air and swoon with happiness? She’ll probably laugh you right offa that porch, featuring herself with a poor fisherman. She won’t ever love you like I do, Ben.”

It was true, Abby might not ever take to me in that way, but I didn’t care none. I had to go whole hog.

Eliza’s face was peaked in the moonlight. “And here I thought that wearing this dress would make you see me the way you see her. I wanted to look nice for a change, thought that would make the difference with you.” Tears ran all over her thin brown face.

“And you look pretty as a picture, believe me. But it ain’t her dry goods, Eliza.”

She cut her dark eyes at me. “Maybe it’s what’s underneath those fine clothes you’re hungering for. Maybe you’ll get a taste of the top crust and find it a little too tough. Then what’ll you do? Come find ol’ Eliza, sample her wares?”

“No, it ain’t like that, either. It’s mighty hard for me to explain. She just has some quality that’s … worth wondering on.” I couldn’t say it all to her, the way Abby and I just went together, and helped each other along, like two oars moving a boat.

“Is it ’cause she can
read?
That ain’t no circumstance! I could learn my letters, if I
wanted
to. Problem is, I don’t want to! I like who I am, unlike you, who can’t stand himself and who’s reaching for things he can’t have!”

She was having herself a conniption fit, with her hands stuck flat over her watering eyes, and I was sore afraid that Mama Dickens was gonna pop out to see what the matter was. She’d prob’ly lash me there on the spot. So I thought to take my leave, slink away like a scolded dog that’s shat in the house. Eliza’s sadness was too awful to witness.

I searched and struggled for the proper good-bye. “I still want to
know you, Eliza. When we get over this rough patch, I mean. You’re my best friend. Oh Lord … I’m sorry to botch us up like this …” I trailed off.

She looked out to the slapping sound and whispered my name over and over. Nearly set me to crying myself. I had to leave her then.

N
AGS
H
EAD
W
OODS IS, IN MY HUMBLE OPINION, WHAT HEAVEN MUST LOOK
like, except it’s here on Earth for us to enjoy. You have never seen such a forest, ’specially one situated between big sand dunes like it is. The woods grow up real thick in the dunes’ shadows, out of the sea spray and wind.

When you’re inside the woods, you’d never guess the spot was midway between the Roanoke Sound and the Atlantic Ocean, it’s that much like a true forest. There’s near to about five miles or so of pine trees, and oak and hickories, too. Beeches, red maples, dogwoods, hollies bigger ’n those on the mainland. It’s unusual they grown so tall out here on the island, and I sure do respect their rebellious natures.

Everyone who’s anyone goes to the freshwater ponds in the woods to fish and carry on, since they’re only about three miles or so from the Nags Head Hotel. Folks take horse and cart through a winding sand trail along the sound to get there.

The Fresh Ponds are so wide and deep you’d think you were in the mountains, and today we were heading for Great Pond, the biggest one of them all.

At times during the summer there were more fishing rods than fish in the water. The fishing ain’t like it used to be, that’s for certain. Pap’s told me some legends of yore about catching all kinds and sizes of fish in the ponds, but I’ve never seen such glory there, myself.

Feeling all out of sorts, I tagged along this morning with my buddies Harley and Jimmy on Jimmy’s daddy’s ol’ buggy. Even Jacob agreed to come along for a bit of a holiday.

We fished for a couple hours in the quiet early morning, afore the vacationers came along to scare the few fish away. It was just the fish and us, breathing the cool forest air. Harley decided he was fit to be famished, so we got off the dory to fry up some of the perch we caught. While the fish and doings of bacon and onion was sizzling up nice, I told the boys about breaking it off with Eliza.

“That mean she’s free to go out with me, then?” Jimmy jibed. “All the good women on this island are spoken for.”

“No, that ain’t what that means. You keep your stinking catfish whiskers offa her if you know what’s good for you,” I said.

Jacob said, “Why’d you do it, Ben? You ain’t hankering for that Abigail, are you?”

Harley called, “’Course he is! Pretty piece like that. Wouldn’t you? I see you’re a Negro and all, but still. She could make you happy. You could have some nice yellow-skin babies, with freckles galore.”

I popped some corn bread into my mouth and said, “Listen, don’t go wagging your tongues all over the island now. But there
is
something ’bout a smart schoolmarm that sets the heart afire.”

They punched each other in the arms as I turned the fish over in the pan. “I couldn’t go behind Liza’s back. And you know, I
surely
couldn’t get caught cheating on Mama Dickens!”

They all guffawed at that one. Eliza’s mama’s bad temper was legend ’round the Banks. She ran off her husband, old Jonas Dickens, over ten years ago. Folks used to hear her screeching and hitting him with the frying pan way past the middle of the night, some nights. I thought he was a decent man, but Mama Dickens always said he was a good-for-nothing sack of potatoes, couldn’t even clean fish proper. Last I heard, he took up with a roughshod clam-digger gal over on the mainland somewhere. Eliza hasn’t seen him since, so I guess he
was
a bad catch, at that.

Jacob said, shaking his head back and forth, “Abigail must have learned you those letters of the alphybet real good.”

“That she did, Jacob. That she did.”

But instead of looking happy for me, Jacob looked right sad. I never knew he favored Eliza that much.

After that we ate our food in the peace of the cool woods. Then the boys started working at their musical instruments. Me lacking any sort of musical ear, I dove on in the pond for a swim. I splashed ’em after a while, bored all by my lonesome, so they quit their plucking and blowing and jumped in, too.

We were dunking each other and having a frolic when a cart chock-full of dressed-up ladies and gents came rolling into the woods, pulling a boat behind them. We all poked each other under the water and spoke low about how dense it was to dress up like that for a day of fishing and visiting. We just could never understand those folks from the mainland towns and their mixed-up ideas of fun.

Seemed like they couldn’t do a thing without their driver, neither. He was helping them get off the cart and watering the bays and unhitching the boat into the water’s edge and fitting hooks, lines, and poles, while they were all cavorting around in their finery.

Having seen this spectacle many a time before, I swam over to Harley to dunk him again. Just as I was holding his head under the water and starting to feel like I was getting him good, I heard Jimmy say to Jacob, “I gotta say, those town gals sure do put our sweethearts to shame. That redhead one is a pure delight. Come to think, she looks like I’ve seen her afore.”

Jacob looked over at the group and groaned. He plucked Jimmy hard on the head with thumb and forefinger and said, “Jimmy, that ain’t just
any
redhead.”

I let go of Harley’s head like greased lightning, and up he came, sputtering at me. But I had caught sight of Abby’s sweet face amid the trees and finery and his hollering wasn’t a circumstance. She was talking right much with a young dandy about my age, with a nice suit of clothes and a thick head of hair. Abby was as pretty as ever in a puffy yellow dress and fancy hat. It sure was different to see her outside in the world, away from our porch.

I called out, “Hey now, Abby! Didn’t make you out for a fishing gal!”

The group of folks jumped when they heard me holler at them, and Abby gave a slow little wave at me with a gloved hand, then turned back to the feller.

My boys all looked at me stupefied, and then Jimmy whispered, “Looks like she got herself a beau, in any case. Now you don’t have to make an ass of yourself.”

Harley said, “Reckon you best make it up with Eliza now. You, loverboy, are all washed up.”

They started snickering and falling all over themselves at the pickle I was in, so I got kinda defensive. “She likes me, boys. Just you watch this.”

The group of folks was fixing to get in the boat with their rods and tackle and basket o’ goodies, so I sauntered over to show off my skills. And blasted if they didn’t turn to me slowly like I was some kind of varmint, something to be afeared of. Made me want to look over my shoulder to see what was lurking behind me, but I knew it was just me. As I walked, I snuck a glance down at my brown toes with the black lines of dirt beneath the torn nails and finally saw what folks like Abby saw: a poor, dirty Banker.

But I was still myself, in my own Nags Head Woods, so I just stuck my chest out and said, “If any of you needs any help at all with your fishing skills, Benjamin Whimble here, at your service.”

They all just eyed my wet clothes, not saying a word. I felt mighty half-witted, standing there mumbling and dripping while they was all dry and nice. Why had I come over here in the first place?

“Fact is, I’m Abby’s daddy’s guide this summer, ain’t that right, Abby?” Good God, I sounded as bumble-brained as I looked.

All her friends looked over at her, disbelieving that we could even know each other. I had caught the yellow-haired gal’s attention, for certain. She looked at me real curious.