Making Waves (19 page)

I couldn't stop staring down at the river, almost like I was hypnotized by it. I was baptized in the creek that runs behind our church, a clear, cheerful little creek, not a thing like the Black Warrior. As I looked into that dark, deep river, I swore I'd come there anytime I wanted to, that never again would anyone forbid me anything so fabulous.

So I took to coming often, bringing my lunch and sitting in the sun, watching the different seasons. Autumn's still my favorite, because that's the way I saw it first, then spring is next, with the soft pretty greens and golds. If I thought for a minute that Glenda had found at the Black Warrior River what I myself discovered, it would be different. I wouldn't be going out there to talk to her. But if all she'd found there was that sorry old Dinky Odom, that was a different matter altogether!

I was glad no one was at the Zippy Mart when I drove up. Dinky's black pickup was parked over to the side, by the restrooms, was all. I didn't care; anything I had to say to Glenda he could listen to.

Glenda was behind the cash register, adding up a pile of figures on a little calculator. She'd always been good with numbers, and I tried to get her to go to business school in Columbus like I did, but no, she's too blame timid to go off anywhere. Except to the Zippy Mart with Dinky, evidently. Glenda didn't look different, though, for someone who'd had a change of personality lately. She was dressed her usual way, in a pink polyester dress Mama made, way too young for her, with a little bow at the waist. Glenda's not pretty but she's neat as a pin. She pulls her long hair back on each side, which looks right nice on her. She's never cut it, it's down to her waist, almost. Lord, I'd love for Donnette to get ahold of it. She did wonders for mine.

Glenda didn't look particularly surprised to see me. “Hey, Ellis,” was all she said, then she went right back to the calculator.

“Glenda, I reckon you know why I'm here,” I said firmly to her, a little louder than I intended.

“You need some gas or something?” She didn't look at me, still pecking away at that calculator.

“I need to talk to you. You ought to know that Mama would send Daddy to town for me after you up and did what you did this morning!”

I grabbed a package of Anacin and tossed her a dollar. I couldn't take this headache anymore.

Glenda calmly handed me a Coke to wash the Anacin down with.

“Why would Mama send Daddy for you?” she asked. Hand it to her, she did look puzzled. I've tried to get her not to squint her eyes like that; she'll have crow's-feet before she's thirty. Look at Mama. Why, she's more wrinkled than Miss Frances Martha, who's about sixty, and Mama's no older than Miss Opal. But Miss Opal takes care of her skin.

“You know good and well they'd be upset with you quitting your job like that, Glenda. And then going off with Dink Odom! You know how they are, good as I do.”

Glenda shrugged. “They never ask me about my job, or anything else, for that matter.”

Lord, Glenda could be pure slow sometimes! “Of course not—Mama and Daddy don't know how to make conversation,” I reminded her. “You have to be the one to initiate it with them. But that's not the point. Mama's in bed sick, and Daddy's so upset his eyes are wallowing!”

I couldn't believe it; Glenda just shrugged again.

“Mama stays in bed sick half the time. And if I read the Bible as much as Daddy, I'd be cross-eyed too.”

Well, my mouth fell open and I stared at her, I was so dumbstruck. Glenda, talking like this! No wonder Mama and Daddy were upset. For once in my life, I couldn't think of a thing to say.

Glenda opened up the cash register and began to fiddle with something in there. “Is that all you need, Ellis? Dink's got RCs on special this week. Or you could get Sonny some Budweiser.”

“I don't need an RC and I sure don't need any beer—Hamilton doesn't drink beer anymore. No, I just need to understand what's going on—I need to understand
you
.”

“There ain't nothing to understand. I quit my job at the daycare because Dink offered me a job here. Plus, he offered to come by and pick me up every morning, and take me home after we close at night. I love it here, too. It's the first time I've been to the river.”

Glenda closed the cash register with a bang and I jumped. Timid little Glenda talking like this! I guess I'd been too preoccupied with getting into the Clark family to notice her lately. But thinking of the Clarks fueled my resolve again. I couldn't let Glenda get by with this.

“Now listen here, Glenda. How do you think it will look to Mr. Harris Clark when he finds out about this?”

She looked at me with disgust. “It's honest work. Why would Mr. Harris give two figs about anything I do?”

I looked around to make sure no one else was in the store. “Use your head, Glenda. Dink is a divorced man. You know what that means to people like Mama and Daddy. Well, Mr. Harris is just as religious as they are, in his own way. He wouldn't approve. You are Hamilton's sister-in-law now, you know. What you do reflects on the whole Clark family.”

Glenda began restacking a display of Bic cigarette lighters next to the cash register, purposely avoiding my eye.

“So what if Dink's divorced—he couldn't help it. Joleen ran off and left him. And left him with two little girls he's had to raise all by himself. He's done the best he could. It ain't none of Old Man Harris Clark's business. Or Mama and Daddy's either.”

I was so flabbergasted I was again speechless. But I had to ask her what I came here to find out—I wasn't going home without finding out.

“Glenda, are you and Dinky—I mean—what about you and Bobby Ray Hall?”

Glenda stopped her fiddling around and looked right at me. She has nice blue eyes if she'd wear a little Maybelline.

“Ellis, this ain't none of your business either. I never said one thing when you set out to marry Sonny Clark, and everybody knows what he is. But he just happened to be the only Clark available, so you tricked him into marrying you—”

“I
never
—that's a lie, Miss Smarty Pants! Hamilton and I happen to love each other very much.” I couldn't ever remember getting mad with Glenda, not once. Now I could've gladly killed her.

Before either of us could say another word, the door swung open and Dinky Odom walked in. He's older than me, a big, hulking man who always wears cowboy shirts and boots with his Levi's. He combs his long hair way over from the back to cover a balding spot on top. What on earth could Glenda see in such an unrefined man?

“What in the hell are you two yelling about?” he said right off the bat, no “How you doing, Mrs. Clark” or nothing. Just plain common. He stopped right in front of the Bic display and glared at me.

“Well, hello to you, too, Dink,” I said with all the sarcasm I could muster. I've gotten good at sarcasm since I've been to the business college.

“What do you want, Miss Ellis? Glenda ain't done nothing wrong,” Dinky said, squinting as he lit up a cigarette without asking me. I waved the smoke away and coughed.

“Guess I'm here to make sure that she don't, Dinky Odom. How come you had to come along and offer Glenda a job here? She was doing just fine where she was.”

Dinky leaned lazily on the counter and looked me over, head to toe, puffing that cigarette disrespectfully.

“Shit. That ain't what she told me. She's been miserable over there for two years, stuck with a roomful of squalling kids eight until five every single day. How'd you like to do that for a living, Miss Ellis?”

“Then how come she didn't just quit?” I asked him with a smile to show him who's got the brains around here.

“She just did,” he smiled back.

I swear if Glenda didn't snicker. Now I was really mad. I might have known somebody had been influencing her. A good girl like Glenda doesn't turn into a smart mouth overnight.

Dinky dragged on his cigarette and blew smoke right in my face, causing me to gag and sputter. “Now, why don't you tell me what you really came for, Ellis Clark? As if I didn't know. Lay your cards on the table.”

“All right, I will. I want to know this—is Glenda just working for you, or are you
going
with her?”

Before another word could be said, Glenda came from behind the counter to stand by him, and Dinky put his arm around her. I literally felt my chin drop. Dinky grinned at me.

“I guess that answers your question, Miss Ellis.”

I was too shocked to say anything—it was as I had feared! Oh, Lord, what would Daddy Clark say? This was all I needed now. Then, for some reason, I pictured Bobby Ray Hall, with his boyish grin and his shining face, and I turned to Glenda.

“B-but, Glenda—what about Bobby Ray?”

“It don't look like the preacher man is much compared to me, now does it?” Dinky smirked. My hand itched to slap his stupid face, and Glenda's too. I had to get out of there fast.

“Y'all are not going to get by with this, you hear me? Glenda Sue Rountree, you'd better listen to me, because I mean it—nothing is going to mess me up with the Clarks, you hear? Certainly not you and this no-good man here!”

I ran out still yelling, too upset to stop myself, my head busting now. I headed straight for the car and slammed the door, not once looking back. Thank the Lord no one was around to see me carrying on in such a way, so unlike my usual dignified demeanor.

It was much later that I had an inspiration, one which brought me vast relief from this despicable situation. I took two Valiums Hamilton gave me and went to bed when I got home. I didn't let on to any of them that anything was wrong, just that I had one of my bad migraine headaches. I couldn't even eat the lovely supper we'd worked so hard over, and Miss Frances Martha pouted, but I couldn't help it.

Hamilton was so sweet and solicitous of me; he brought me the pills and some cold lemon tea and fussed over me. It almost made me cry. Glenda is wrong about us. I would have married him even if he wasn't a Clark—I just didn't realize it at the time. I admit I set out to catch him, but he hasn't been shortchanged one bit. I have made a different person out of him in the short time we've been married. So, maybe it was fate that made me set my cap for him—certainly it was fate or something that made it turn out the way it did. Maybe even God. It was almost like God spoke to me about what to do about Dinky and Glenda.

Dinky Odom is related to Donnette Sullivan. As soon as I remembered that fact, I felt enormous relief. They're not exactly related; he used to be married to her cousin Joleen. I knew that Dink thought the world of Donnette because she helped him with the children after that slut Joleen ran off with Clermon Windham. I recalled hearing folks say that Dink wouldn't have made it through that difficult time without Donnette, that he'd do anything for her. So. Tomorrow I would pay a little visit to Donnette. I needed my roots touched up anyway. Of all people, Donnette knew what all I went through to get where I am today and how I'd do anything to keep from losing what me and her together gained. Donnette would help me out again, I just knew she would! I was so glad I thought of her. Maybe there was a God after all.

I thought Donnette was not at home when I got to her shop. It was early in the morning—I was just too worried to stay around the house any longer. Hamilton was still asleep, so I left him a note saying I was going to get my hair fixed. He always sleeps late because there's no need for him to go to the funeral home until after lunch anyway. Then, if nobody has died, there's really nothing much for him and his Uncle Cleve to do. They spend a lot of time polishing the hearse. Usually, they go to the cafe in Mt. Zion and sit around with the men who work at the courthouse, drinking coffee and telling jokes all afternoon. There's not a cafe in Clarksville. There's a Coca-Cola and hamburger stand outside of town but that's it. You have to drive twelve miles to Mt. Zion to get a decent cup of coffee.

I opened the door to Donnette's shop and looked in. The lights weren't on, and she was nowhere to be seen. I figured she was probably in the kitchen, so I went to her front door and knocked. But there was no sound coming from the house. I knew she wouldn't care if I went to the kitchen, so I walked around the porch to the back door. If she wasn't in the kitchen, then she must still be asleep, which is not like her. Donnette is determined to make a go of that shop and she works hard at it, putting in long hours. As a matter of fact, she has consulted me on certain matters about keeping her books and running the shop, since I'm a business school graduate. In a way, that's how our friendship started.

The kitchen door in the back has a window in it, where Donnette has hung some cute flowery curtains. Before knocking, I peeked through there to see if she was in. I sure was relieved that I didn't just go barging in, because Donnette
was
in there, all right, but she wasn't alone. Tim was with her, standing with his arms around her. I stepped back, embarrassed.

I didn't really intend to watch them, but Donnette had tied those flowery curtains back on each side of the window, and I could see them plain as day. Tim didn't have on a thing but his underwear! Donnette had on a skimpy little pink robe that didn't cover much.