Jimmy (28 page)

“I would,” Jimmy blurted out, glad for a chance to leave the room.

“No, let's wait on the cobbler,” Mama said. “We need to discuss what happened in the woods on Saturday.”

Uncle Bart spoke. “Oh, I've already told Walt that he shouldn't have taken Jimmy so far out of town. After his ankle heals, I'm going to ground him for a month before he can drive his car.”

“That's not what we're talking about,” Daddy responded. “Jimmy told us—”

“You need to tell the truth, Jimmy,” Walt interrupted.

“I did.”

“Did you tell about spraying red paint on the wreath and ruining it?”

Jimmy looked at Aunt Jill, “No.”

“What does that have to do with going to the woods?” Daddy asked.

“Everything, Uncle Lee,” Walt replied. “That's why we left the house, isn't it Jimmy?”

Jimmy nodded. “Yes.”

“Jimmy was here alone for a few minutes and sprayed red paint all over a wreath my mom was making. It's still in the craft room. Mom, would you get it, please?”

Aunt Jill left and in a moment came back with the marred wreath. Jimmy gave Mama a sheepish look.

Walt pointed at the wreath. “To make things right before she got home, Jimmy and I decided to go to the woods and find something she could use in another project. We drove to a place that has a bunch of sweet gum trees. I thought we could pick up a sack of those prickly balls and bring them home so she could paint and use them.

“You didn't tell me that,” Jimmy protested.

“I did, but you weren't listening. All you seemed interested in was your dog. If we hadn't taken him with us, none of this would have happened.”

“Wait a minute,” Daddy said. “Jimmy told us you wanted to tie him up.”

Walt looked confused. Then he said, “Oh, I know where he got that idea. When we got out of the car, Jimmy ran off to play with his dog, and I started picking up sweet gum balls. I didn't want to do all the work and yelled that if he didn't come over and help, I was going to put him and his dog on a leash. I was kidding.”

“Jimmy said you wanted to play a game called Houdini,” Daddy said. “You were going to tie him up and see if he could escape.”

“Houdini?” Walt asked. “What is that?”

“An escape artist,” Uncle Bart answered. “He lived a long time ago.”

“I've never heard of him,” Walt said.

“Why would Jimmy mention his name?” Mama asked.

Walt shrugged. “I don't know. He didn't hear it from me.”

“He could have seen something on TV,” Aunt Jill suggested.

Jimmy turned his head from side to side as he followed the conversation. The more he listened, the more confused he became. Aunt Jill turned toward him.

“Have you ever seen a TV show about Harry Houdini?”

“No, ma'am,” Jimmy answered.

“Lee, I resent your insinuations,” Uncle Bart said, his face slightly red. “We didn't realize you were coming over here to cross-examine Walt as if he were a criminal. He's done nothing wrong, and we should all be thankful the boys are alive and well.”

“We are,” Mama said. “But Jimmy says he didn't know Walt's ankle was broken until a sheriff's deputy told him about it. Jimmy didn't leave Walt to seek help. He ran away from Walt because he was scared.”

“Scared of what?” Uncle Bart seemed angry now. “Picking up a few sweet gum balls?”

“I think I can explain,” Walt said in a softer voice.

Everyone looked at him.

Walt spoke in a level voice. “After I asked him to help me, Jimmy threw a stick for his dog to fetch and went into the edge of the woods. I ran after him and stepped in a hole. That's when I broke my ankle. I cried out in pain. Jimmy turned around and saw me, and I guess the look on my face scared him. He took off running. I thought he was going for help. I started yelling for him to come back, but he left me alone.”

Daddy turned to Jimmy. “Did the look on Walt's face scare you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did he yell for you to come back?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That's enough,” Uncle Bart said. “This is exactly what Walt told us the first time we talked about it. I'm sorry Jimmy misunderstood what happened, but I'm offended that you would come over here and accuse Walt like this. We're all part of the same family.”

“It's okay,” Walt said. “I thought it was strange that Jimmy ran into the woods instead of down the road, but I guess he's easily confused and didn't think about it. He panicked.”

Daddy glanced at Mama. Mama spoke.

“Walt, we owe you and your folks an apology. We're protective of Jimmy because of his limitations and overreacted
to the information he gave us. Now that I know what actually happened, I can see the whole picture.”

Aunt Jill reached over and patted Jimmy on the knee. “And don't worry about the wreath. It doesn't matter, so long as you're safe and sound. You're worth a lot more to us than a wreath or a few sweet gum balls.”

Daddy looked at the floor and didn't say anything.

“Let's have cobbler and ice cream,” Aunt Jill added brightly. “It will make everyone feel better.”

Jimmy sighed with relief. He'd rather enjoy cobbler than argue with Walt and Uncle Bart. Aunt Jill's cobbler was as good as her fried chicken. It had a flaky crust with slightly sweet cherries underneath that popped in his mouth when he bit down on them. And it was easier to eat the delicious dessert than try to argue with Walt and the adults.

A
S SOON AS THEY GOT IN THE CAR TO GO HOME,
D
ADDY SPOKE.

“I don't believe Walt. Something in my gut tells me he's still lying.”

“But you heard Jimmy admit everything that came up. It was a big misunderstanding.”

“I've seen clever liars like Walt. They know how to manipulate facts and rework them so they come out looking squeaky clean.”

“Just because your clients lie doesn't mean your nephew isn't telling the truth,” Mama responded. “Why would Walt want to hurt Jimmy in the first place? He has a smart mouth, but he's never hit or hurt him during all the time they've been growing up.”

Daddy grunted. “Not all my clients lie. Just the guilty ones.”

“Maybe so, but after tonight, we can't dwell on it with Bart and Jill.” Mama paused. “However, there is one thing I want to avoid in the future.”

“What's that?” Daddy asked.

“Jimmy will not be left alone with Walt for any length of time under any circumstances.”

“Or ride with him in the car.”

“Agreed. There's no need to mention anything for a few weeks, because Walt is out of commission.”

“Thank you,” Jimmy interjected.

“And we'll need to change our estate plan,” Daddy added. “Bart and Jill are designated as Jimmy's guardians in case something happens to us.”

Mama raised her eyebrows. “I'd forgotten about that.”

“I'll modify the papers this week and let you know when to come by the office and sign them.”

“Who will take their place?”

“My parents. And we'll hope nothing happens to us or them until we come up with an alternate plan.”

Mama was silent for a second. “What about Vera? Could she come in and try to take him?”

“She would have an argument. That's another reason why we're countersuing to terminate her parental rights.”

Mama sighed. “It's complicated, isn't it? And beyond all this is the idea of Jimmy trying to live independently as an adult.”

Jimmy didn't understand exactly what she meant.

T
HE FOLLOWING WEEK
M
AX CAME OVER FOR A VISIT BUT
got nothing more than a short account of Jimmy's adventures in the woods. He forced Jimmy to stop when he came to the part about the Watcher at the well.

“Why can't I see them?” Max asked.

“I don't know.”

“Why do you get to see them?”

Jimmy smiled. “Because I'm special.”

Max's mouth dropped open in surprise. He knew how Jimmy didn't like that word.

“Jimmy, did you mean that as a joke?”

“Was it funny?”

“Yes.”

“Then why aren't you laughing?”

Max laughed. “Because I didn't want to hurt your feelings if you didn't mean it that way. Does that mean there is a good kind of special?”

“Yes,” Jimmy said. “I've been thinking about it, and you're a special football player. When we go to high school, you're going to be the most special quarterback ever.”

—
Twenty
—

T
he school year ended, and Jimmy was promoted to the eighth grade. Two days later he celebrated his fourteenth birthday. The night before the big day, he lay in bed wondering about his presents. With Buster in the backyard and his red bicycle leaned against the railing of the front porch, Jimmy had everything a boy could possibly want.

Jimmy didn't like big birthday parties. When he turned six, Mama invited his whole first-grade class to a party at the local roller-skating rink, but after thirty minutes, Jimmy went to the car.

Jimmy went downstairs for breakfast. Mama was fixing pecan pancakes with link sausage. Birthdays were different from Christmas. On birthdays he had to wait until the afternoon to open his gifts.

“Happy birthday,” she said.

“Good morning, Mama. Where's Daddy?”

“He had to go to work early so he can come home for your party.”

After breakfast Jimmy and Mama spent two hours working in the flower beds. Mama raised flowers in broad bands across the front and side of the house. The plants needed a lot of watering and weeding. Daddy had spread several dump-truck loads of river-bottom dirt over the red clay, and Jimmy liked the feel of the rich soil between his fingers. He kept a plastic cup beside him, and as he pulled up the weeds, he searched for earthworms. He put moist soil in the bottom of the cup and dropped the worms on top. When he had a few wiggling creatures in a pile, he added another layer of soil and repeated the process. Grandpa believed homegrown earthworms, so long as they were fresh, caught as many fish as the ones bought at the bait store.

Buster liked to dig in the flower beds too, but he couldn't tell the difference between a daisy and a dandelion, so one of Jimmy's jobs was to keep the dog entertained. Jimmy brought two tennis balls outside and threw them across the yard for Buster to fetch. The black-and-white dog was tireless, and even on the hottest days he never stopped returning the balls and waiting for another one. Sometimes Jimmy would reach over and scratch Buster's belly. A certain place Jimmy scratched caused the dog's hind leg to twitch rapidly back and forth. Watching the dog's leg shake made Jimmy laugh. Buster didn't mind. He closed his eyes and let his tongue hang out the side of his mouth.

M
AX ARRIVED MIDAFTERNOON CARRYING A LARGE PRESENT
wrapped in yellow paper. Jimmy saw his friend's arrival from his bedroom window and ran downstairs to greet him. As he threw open the front door, he saw Max lifting his bicycle from the back of his mother's van.

“Happy birthday!” Jimmy called out.

Max rolled his bike up to the porch and leaned it against the steps.

“That's what I'm supposed to say. It's your birthday.”

“But I want you to have a happy day on my birthday.”

Max came into the house and handed Jimmy the present. “Guess what it is.”

Jimmy took the box and shook it. It didn't make any sound.

“It's light. Is it a really small gift that you put in a big box to fool me?”

“You'll have to find out later.”

Max walked into the foyer
and slipped off a backpack. Mama entered.

“What's in the backpack?” Jimmy asked.

“My clothes. I'm going to spend the night.”

“Yes!” Jimmy exclaimed, glancing up at Mama in appreciation.

“And I asked Max to bring his bike,” Mama added.

“We can ride in the yard!” Jimmy exclaimed.

Max smiled. “I thought we might take a longer trip.”

“To Grandpa's house?”

Mama spoke. “No, I'm willing to let you ride downtown so long as Max is with you. You'll have to promise to stay right beside him and do what he tells you about traffic. Leave Buster home for this trip.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Ten minutes later, the two boys were pedaling down the sidewalk with Max in the lead and Jimmy's eyes glued to his friend's back. At the first intersection, they slowed to a stop. Jimmy honked his horn twice. Walking the bikes across the street, they continued toward Hathaway Street and the center of town. At each stop sign or light, Jimmy pressed the bulb for his horn at least two times.

“You sure like that horn, don't you?” Max asked.

Jimmy honked in response. Let the world know he'd arrived.

They reached Hathaway Street, named for the family who owned the first general store in the area. It was the center of business activity.

“We'll walk our bikes down the sidewalk,” Max said.

Jimmy passed the barbershop where he went for haircuts. Mr. Griffin, the barber, looked out the big plate-glass window. Jimmy proudly pointed at his bike, and Mr. Griffin waved. Next to the barbershop was an insurance agency, a small café, and then a two-story office building at one corner of the courthouse square.

The Cattaloochie County Courthouse never appeared on calendars featuring historic Georgia courthouses, Daddy said, because it was built in the 1950s under the supervision of a board of county commissioners who knew more about concrete-block hog pens than courthouses. Built of dingy brown brick, it had two entrances framed by white columns much too small for the size of the structure.

“That's where you'll be next week,” Max said as they passed in front of the courthouse. “I hope everything goes okay.”