Finding Home (2 page)

“
Never you mind,” Phoebe chastised, grinding the gears and backing safely away from the trash compactor. “We’ve got to find a telephone,” she said when Maydean flounced back into the truck. “Y’all keep an eye out.”

Willie-Boy jumped
excitedly. “We gonna call somebody? We gonna call Ma?”

“
No. I got to get an address on that junkyard.”

“
Lor, ain’t you smart,” Willie-Boy said with flattering awe. “I’m goin’ to be as smart as you when I grow up.”

Phoebe drove a qua
rter mile and found herself outside the small town. The road was narrow, lined on one side by ditches carved out of red clay and on the other by oak trees thick of trunk and gnarled landward by wind that swept in from the bay. “Goin’ the wrong way,” she said, whipping around in a U-turn. It wasn’t lost on Phoebe that lately her whole life was filled with U-turns, leading her from nowhere back to nowhere. Well, she meant to change all that. Somehow.

“
There’s a cop followin’ us,” said Maydean.

Phoebe
’s gaze flew to the rearview mirror in time to see the red ball start flashing. “If it ain’t one thing, it’s ten,” she moaned. She pulled onto the verge and shut the motor off, waiting.

“
Howdy,” said the trooper.

“
Mornin’,” replied Phoebe.

“
Mind if I see your license?”

“
No sir, don’t mind at all.” She dug around in her change purse and handed it out the window. “Nice day, ain’t it?”

“
Cottontown. You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, miss? Cottontown’s north. What brings you to Bayou La Batre?” He ran the words together so that to Phoebe it sounded like Byabatrie.

“
We’re visitin’,” she said, keeping to a vague truth.

“
I see. It appears you’re missing a license plate, though.”

“
It’s on the bumper,” Phoebe informed him.

“
Is that right? Appears you’re missing a bumper, too.”

“
Yessir. It fell off. This is an old truck. Bolts rusted. Darn thing just fell flat off.”

The trooper thumbed her driver
’s license and stared into the truck. Phoebe tried to figure out what he was thinking. She knew they looked bedraggled and poor, which they were. But they were clean; she had seen to that at the rest stop earlier that morning. No doubt the trooper guessed that even if he gave her a ticket, she wouldn’t have the money to pay it.

“
Who’re you visiting in Bayou La Batre?” he asked.

“
What?”

“
You said you were visiting. Who? Relatives?”

“
Oh.” Phoebe’s thoughts flew. “Cousins. We’re visitin’ a cousin.”

“
This cousin have a name?”

Name?
Name!
Phoebe didn’t know a soul in— “Morgan, G. G. Morgan.”

The trooper
’s eyes narrowed. “Gage Morgan?”

Phoebe
’s heart did cartwheels. “That’s him. Unless—how many G. G. Morgans you got in Bayou La Batre?”

“
Only one I know of is Gage. Never knew he had any cousins anywhere. Leastwise he never mentioned it and we went through school together.”

“
We’re cousins three times removed, maybe more,” said Phoebe. “But, ain’t that something!” she gushed. “You and Gage bein’ schoolmates all those years. Why…that makes you and me almost family friends.” She pointed to her sister. “That there is Maydean and this is Willie-Boy, G. G. Morgan’s least cousin. Truth is, we just ain’t had time to visit afore now.” Maydean’s puckering lips fell open. Willie-Boy’s, too. Phoebe crooked her elbow, jamming it under his chin to keep his mouth shut lest he contradict her.

“
Gage has our bumper and tag in the back of his truck. He’s waitin’ on us, out to the junkyard so we can weld it back on.” It was something, Phoebe thought, how a body could take a tidbit of truth and bracket it with lies and make it sound so good. Noting the trooper was swallowing it all, she gave her whole face up to a grand smile.

“
Why didn’t you say so in the first place? Tell you what. I’ll follow you over to Gage’s, else going back through town you get stopped again, no tag and all.” He returned her driver’s license.

Phoebe protested hardily.
“Oh, we wouldn’t want to put you out none.” In her mind’s eye she could see G. G. Morgan disputing all that she’d told the trooper. It wasn’t a comforting thought.

“
It’s no trouble. The yard’s barely a block out of my patrol area. Besides, it’s part of my job to help folks.”

“
Then maybe it’d be better if you led the way.”

The trooper squinted, suspicion flaring.
“Why?”

“
We just got into town this mornin’,” Phoebe said. “We ain’t been to the junkyard yet. When the bumper fell off, Gage came and got it. We were followin’ him, but I got lost ‘cause of Willie-Boy here, a-squirming something awful on account of a full bladder...” She trailed off and closed her mouth. Casting her eyes down she held all the air in her lungs and pressed to make her face go red; mention of body functions and such never did have the effect of making her blush. She canted a furtive look at the officer. Her demure look and her flaming face were having the desired effect.

“
Right,” he said. “But, you stay close now.”

Phoebe was to
rn between holding her breath and smiling at him. Need of air won. “Yessir.” She pulled out behind the cruiser, sighing relief when the twirling red light went dark.

“
We’re in trouble sure,” announced Maydean. “All them lies you told, Phoebe. That cop’s gonna know soon’s we get to the junkyard.”

“
You go to hell if you tell lies, Ma said,” piped Willie-Boy, gazing at Phoebe as if she would go up in flames any minute, or at least get hit by flying brimstone.

“
We didn’t get a ticket, did we?” Phoebe said, justifying her actions. “We’re bein’ led right to where our bumper and tag is, ain’t we? Besides, everybody’s brothers in the eyes of the Lord. Says so right in the Bible. If you have brothers, stands to reason, don’t it, you got aunts and uncles and cousins?”

Maydean giggled.
“Maybe us and G. G. Morgan are kissin’ cousins.”

Phoebe threw her sister a sharp glance.
“You keep talkin’ that way, Maydean, I’ll slap you. And get your hair off the top of your head like that. You look like a worn-out tart.”

The twelve-year-old sniffed.
“You oughta see what yours looks like. Red hairs are crawling outa that knot atop your head so fast, they look like they’re running from a cootie convention.”

“
I had cooties once, didn’t I, Phoebe? Ma shaved my head and rubbed it down with kerosene. Burned somethin’ fierce, I recall.”

“
Hush talkin’ about lice, Willie-Boy. Help me keep that cruiser in view.” Phoebe shot another glance at Maydean. If she’d had her druthers, she’d ‘ve taken Erlene on this trip instead of Maydean, even if she did have to point Erlene in every direction she meant for her to go. Maydean was ripening too fast. Phoebe briefly thought about ways to hold back nature. But thinking on Maydean was just using up energy better spent elsewhere at the moment.

“
We’re goin’ over the drawbridge again!” whooped Willie-Boy.

“
Look it the sailors on those boats,” cooed Maydean. Suddenly she thrust half her body out of the truck, threw up her hands and waved.

Phoebe grabbed Maydean
’s blouse and yanked her back. “Another stunt like that and I’ll put you on a bus back to Ma!”

Maydean smirked.
“You ain’t got the money for no bus ticket.”

“
I’ll find the money,” said Phoebe, her grinding tone so filled with resolution that Maydean appeared to believe her.

Driving past the building where she
’d been refused work, Phoebe kept her eyes straight ahead. Another three blocks and the patrol car slowed, turning onto a sandy road that was little more than a well-used path, rutted and grooved by far heavier vehicles. In some places the road went right up to the bayou’s edge, in others it zigzagged around boat yards and barge fitters and commercial net shops. Green and black nets sagged like larger-than-life spider webs from booms jutting thirty feet into the salty air. Far back on the landward side were seafood houses where signs advertised that crabs were boiled and picked, shrimp was packed, oysters were shucked.

Phoebe eyed the seafood packagers with interest; the possibility that she might find work in one of them filled her with hope. Mayhap losing her bumper wasn
’t such a bad thing after all. She never would’ve thought to drive down such an unpromising-looking back road.

“
The cop’s a turnin’ in,” Willie-Boy said excitedly. “Phoebe,” he gasped.

“
Look it! Look it all that good stuff. I see a bicycle. It ain’t got no wheels, but you could put some on it. Then I’d have me a bike. I allus wanted a bike.”

“
I can’t study a bike right now. I’m lookin’ for G. G. Morgan or his truck.” Phoebe set the brake, but didn’t shut off the motor. She gazed at the acres and acres of wrecked cars, boat ribs, tires and shapeless metal. “Piled up on good ground,” she muttered. “Why a man could clean all that trash off and plant a fair good crop of cotton or corn, or peanuts and make something of himself. Why, even me and Ma could make a go, had we land—” She caught herself prattling and clamped her lips closed. She had no call to talk like that—or dream, either. Not while she was square on property that belonged to a man as unlikely to share it as G. G. Morgan.
Do first what first needs doin’,
she told herself.
Get rid of the police.

Maydean opened her door. Willie-Boy scrambled over her and leaped from the truck.
“Get back here,” Phoebe demanded. “Maydean, you let him out on purpose!”

“
He said he had to go to the bathroom.”

“
My foot! His nose is twitchin’ to explore worse’n a blue tick hound. Get after him. In this heat he’s liable to come down with an attack of asthma, and I ain’t got the time to fool with—”

“
He don’t like me pryin’ when he’s takin’ a leak.”

The officer ambled her way.
“Looks like Gage hasn’t got here yet,” he said.

“
No doubt he missed us behind him and doubled back. Sure as anything he did. He warned me to keep close. We sure are bein’ a peck of trouble. But now Gage will be mad enough to throw us out on our ear,” she said, in case he appeared suddenly and did just that.

The radio in the patrol car began to c
rackle. The officer excused himself. “You’ll be okay now you’re here,” he said upon his return. “I’ve got to work an accident. You tell Gage I said hello.”

“
That’ll be the first thing I tell him,” agreed Phoebe. If she ever saw him again, which she hoped she didn’t. “You be careful, you hear,” she called to the trooper. “And, thanks.” She forced herself to sit still until the cruiser was out of sight. Then she had to spend a precious ten minutes locating her siblings.

Maydean had found herself an old car with a mirror intact. Willie-Boy w
as sitting behind the wheel pretending he was a race car driver. They were frittering away time—carefree, without a thought in their heads as to how they were going to get decently sheltered and raised. No, they left that suffering to her. But the kids weren’t visible unless someone was to peer directly into the old car so Phoebe decided they’d be out of harm’s way for the few minutes she needed to scout the junkyard.

She began looking for a place to park.
A shady place and one that was not directly in view of anyone driving through the old gate. There was no sense alerting the junkyard’s owner that they were anywhere close by. At least not right off. If she found that there was no hope of reclaiming her bumper without Gage Morgan’s interference, surprise made negotiating easier. And one way or another, Phoebe meant to be one whale of a surprise to G. G. Morgan. Most probably he wasn’t a man used to having folks camp on his doorstep until they got what they wanted. With all that was at stake, Phoebe figured she could out camp and outsmart a truculent army of Huns. Gage Morgan was about to learn just how stalwart a Hawley could be.

~~~~

Phoebe aimed
the truck
toward the rear of the yard. It looked to her as if G. G. Morgan lived smack-dab in the middle of his junk. Only the area around the weathered house was clear of rubble. Clear of saleable rubble that was, for the untended oasis was overgrown with chickweed, cat’s ears and beggar’s ticks. Shading the whole of it was a gnarled old tallow tree.

She eyed the house and unkempt yard behind the ragged wooden fence with strong disapproval. It was a sin the way some folks let things go down like that. Even the tallow tree looked dusty and beaten. Some folks, Phoebe thought
, were just downright unappreciative of what the good Lord bestowed on them.